


The Riding Crop Experiment

by DeathOrMauMau



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, One-Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathOrMauMau/pseuds/DeathOrMauMau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock decides to study the effects of the riding crop on John and things get a bit out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Riding Crop Experiment

John pushed aside a beaker full of something purple and suspicious.   
“Be careful” Sherlock muttered, he was sitting at the kitchen table peering into his microscope. 

“Well move some of your shit, I need room to make tea”  
Sherlock huffed and stood. He moved various items around the table, making no real progress what so ever. John tripped and stumbled on something on his way back from the fridge. The bent to pick it up and discovered it was the riding crop.   
He pushed into Sherlock’s chest on his way past, forcing him to take it. John stood with his back to Sherlock and continued with his tea making.   
Sherlock, having given up on cleaning the table, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, the riding crop hanging from one hand.   
He scanned John’s back from head to toe, noticing several things in a second

1\. John had been using his conditioner  
2\. He flexed his left hand a few times, meaning his shoulder was causing him particular pain today, possibly from poor sleeping positions, but probably from too much masturbation.  
3\. Which meant he was single once again, which would explain why he was home on a Friday night.  
4\. His pants hung a little too loose on his hips exposing the band of a pair of red pants, so he was loosing weight. A result of life with Sherlock Holmes. 

Not for the first time John could sense Sherlock watching him. He wondered what he saw, everything John guessed. Everything? Even . . . ? He felt his ears go red and he hastened his pace. 

Sherlock looked down at the riding crop in his hands and an idea formed in his head. He uncrossed his arms and took a step towards John. Sherlock held the riding crop horizontal, positioning it just behind John’s arse. He stuck a finger into the loop at the top, pulled it back and released it. John let out a small gasp and fumbled with his tea, spilling it. Sherlock smirked and John turned around to glare at him. It was a better response than Sherlock has expected.   
John placed his cup back on the table and reached for a nearby cloth, he bent to wipe some tea that had made its way to the floor.

Sherlock seized this opportunity by raising the riding crop above his head and bringing it down on John’s arse again. This time a small slapping sound was heard and John let out a surprisingly loud moan and his free hand flew up to steady himself of the table above his head. “Sherlock!” he barked, “enough” and he stood and went to stomp his way out of the room. Sherlock, quickly and effortlessly stepped in front of him, blocking his exit.   
“Sherlock please”  
“Please what John?” he said wide-eyed and innocent  
“Sherlock please get out of my way” John said through clenched teeth  
“Oh how disappointing” Sherlock raised the riding crop and placed it on John chest, just below his collarbone.  
“What you really want to say is “Sherlock please”” he ran the riding crop down John’s chest “Sherlock please hit me again”   
John shoved Sherlock out of the way with force he had never felt from John use on him before.  
Sherlock gave a small laugh and moved to his armchair, he lent the riding crop again the side of the chair and opened his laptop. He started typing;

“A Study of the Effects of a Riding Crop on the Adult Male”

He took down what he had observed of John so far. 

He was sexually deprived.

Sherlock had seen John eyeing up the riding crop on more than one occasion. 

Had the sound from John’s mouth been anything other than an unmistakable moan of pleasure John may just have dismissed it as a noise of pain or surprise and continued with his tea. 

He added as a side note that there was a possibility of the bulge in John’s pants had become slightly bigger than usual. But he wasn’t sure of this.

He also knew John would be back.

20 minutes later John walked down the stairs slowly but with determination. He stopped in front of Sherlock with his hands by his sides and his fists clenched and waited. Sherlock raised an eyebrow in John’s direction but didn’t look up from his work.   
“Sherlock please . . .” he paused  
The shaking in John’s voice caused Sherlock to look up.  
“Sherlock please hit me again” he forced the words out  
Sherlock’s eyes dart to John’s pants and this time he is certain. He turns to his laptop again and quickly types that John is most definitely aroused.   
John waited nervously as Sherlock closed his laptop, stood and walked over to him. They were both silent as Sherlock unbuttoned John’s shirt and threw it to the floor.  
“Get on your hands and knees” his voice was deep and rough  
John did as he was told.  
Sherlock retrieved the riding crop from it’s place against the chair and stood beside John.  
He took a moment to appreciate John’s tan skin, his messy scar, the way the muscles in his shoulders moved and he shifted his weight between arms Sherlock ran the riding crop down John’s back and up the inside of his leg before he raised it high above his head and brought it down on John’s back.   
John let his head fall beneath his arms and let out a moan even louder than before. A thick red line appeared on John’s back but Sherlock thought he could do better. Again raising the riding crop above his head and bringing it down on John’s back, but he didn’t stop until John’s back was riddled with lines, until he curled his toes and his hands gripped at the carpet. Only when he paused did Sherlock become aware of a factor he had not foreseen.

John, slightly embarrassed by the noises he was making but enjoying it too much to care, heard Sherlock make a small noise of surprise above him. He looked up to see that Sherlock’s trousers were even tighter than usual.   
Sherlock moved towards his laptop to type out this development when John reached up and grabbed him by the forearm.   
“Oh no you don’t” she said as he dragged Sherlock to the floor, “you’re not making me into a fucking experiment”  
John straddled Sherlock, feeling his own erection pressing against Sherlock’s. John placed a hand on the floor either side of Sherlock’s head.   
“John what are you – ”  
Sherlock words are cut off by a gasp as John grinds their hips together.  
“You know I have no interest in sex beyond the occasional study”  
John’s hand moves to Sherlock’s throat, he pushes down and sees Sherlock’s cheeks flush pink.  
“Shut up” John growls at the man beneath him  
John makes the short journey to Sherlock’s lips and kisses him roughly, only when Sherlock kisses back does he relax his hand.   
John rolls his hips again and when Sherlock parts his lips John slips his tongue into his mouth. Sherlock seems confused at first but with a little encouragement from John he soon begins to enjoy the kiss. John’s hands move down to unbutton Sherlock’s shirt and he pushes it off his shoulders. John runs his hands over Sherlock’s soft and pale torso and his hips start to move in a constant rhythm. Their kissing soon becomes feverish and messy. John feels Sherlock’s back arch slightly as he runs his fingers over one of his nipples. John moves his hand back until he finds it again and this time he gives it a small twist. Sherlock breaks their kiss to give a small gasp and John kisses down his neck. John can feel Sherlock’s pulse against his lips and he tastes slightly salty with sweat John notes as he licks Sherlock’s collarbone before biting down on his neck. Sherlock throws his head back and John doesn’t let go until he tastes that familiar metallic tang of blood. 

John pushes himself up to look Sherlock in the eyes. He has a few black curls stuck to his forehead with sweat and his mouth is hanging open. John knows the answer to his question, but he asks anyway, just to hear Sherlock say it.  
“So do you still want me to stop?”   
John presses a hand against the stiffness in Sherlock’s trousers before he can answer.   
Sherlock’s answer is breathless and desperate.  
“No, John, please, don’t stop”  
John smiles and kneads Sherlock’s erection with his hand. Sherlock lets his head fall back once again and his curls bounce with the sudden stop.   
John kisses down Sherlock’s stomach as he unbuttons his trousers, he stops when he feels the small potion of hair poking out of Sherlock’s pants. He shimmies off both trousers and pants and discards them before standing and doing the same with his own.   
Sherlock feels his cock become harder than he though possible as he looks up at John standing over him completely naked.   
John lowers his body onto Sherlock’s and they kiss again. Sherlock moans into John’s mouth at the stiffness between them. John’s hand finds it’s way to Sherlock’s mouth and he pushes two fingers in for Sherlock to suck. After a few seconds he removes his hand and brings it down between Sherlock’s legs. He pushes them apart a little and poises his fingers at the opening he finds there. He looks up at Sherlock and sees the nervousness is face, John moves a finger in a circular motion and Sherlock’s face softens a fraction at the feeling. John pushes until he has a finger fully inside Sherlock and waits. Sherlock gives a small nod and John begins to move in and out of Sherlock slowly until a low purr, so deep it’s almost a growl, can be heard from deep within Sherlock’s chest. John takes this as his cue to add another finger and begins to move faster and more forcefully.   
Sherlock reaches down to stroke John in time with his movements. John closes his eyes and the move together until Sherlock speaks.  
“John I’m – ahhhh” Sherlock’s words are cut off by a moan as John twists his fingers inside him.   
“I’m, I’m ready”  
John pulls his fingers out fast, earning a sharp intake of breath from Sherlock before he reaches over to grab his discarded trousers. Sherlock watches, his mouth still slightly open as John pulls a small bottle of lube from the pocket of his trousers. John pores some into the palm of his hand and rubs it slowly over his cock. Sherlock runs his hands over John’s chest as he moans slightly before he positions himself between Sherlock’s legs and looks up into his eyes. John pushes slowly into Sherlock; whose eyes slide shut and a small crease appears between his eyebrows. John only stops when he’s all the way inside the other. He waits. Sherlock’s face relaxed as he adjusts to John and he pushes his hips up towards John. John begins to move, slowly at first but his pace quickly grows in ferocity until he’s making small grunting noises every time he pushes into Sherlock and Sherlock’s curls are bouncing slightly with each thrust. He reaches down to take hold of Sherlock to stroke him in time with his own movements. John lets his head rest on Sherlock’s shoulder. 

Sherlock can feels John’s warm breath against his neck and he brings a hand up to grip John’s hair behind his ear. With the other hand he drags his fingers down John’s back, digging his nails in and making John moan his name.

John can feel Sherlock is close and he knows he is too.   
“Oh God John!”   
John feels Sherlock’s cock twitch and strain in his hand and he pumps harder until he feels that familiar warmness run down his hand. Sherlock tightens around John, pushing John over the edge until, with one final thrust he comes inside Sherlock.   
Everything is silent except the heavy breathing of both men until John finally pulls out of Sherlock. He runs his finger over the head of Sherlock’s cock before bringing his hand to his mouth. He licks his fingers and smiles at the taste. They kiss one last time until, John, unable to support his own weight anymore, comes to a rest beside Sherlock. 

“Don’t you dare put this on your fucking website”


End file.
